


walk into my heart

by slimeys



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Multi, barbershop au, dating your barber is probably weird, please be courteous to people who offer you services TONY, shklance zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slimeys/pseuds/slimeys
Summary: "Lance would rather expire than admit that all of his friends—all two of them—are busy, so hanging out with his big brother really was his only plan tonight. Forgive him for being disappointed. He opens his mouth to say some other hurt-ass stuff when he’s cut off by the pleasant, yet out of place, tinkling of the bell. It’s past 8, so they’re closed.“Hey.” Lance starts to turn towards the door. “We’re cl—oseto being done for the night! But what can I do for you guys?”You guys means Shiro and Keith. Together. In Lance’s shop. At this hour."Please don't approach him with lectures on professionalism.





	walk into my heart

**Author's Note:**

> [ **SHKLANCE _ZINE_** ](https://shklancezine.tumblr.com)

Lance squints at his phone.

“If Tony keeps canceling on me, the next time he does come in I’m just gonna quit mid-fade.”

This is like, the third time. What does this man do with his life to be _so_ busy that he can’t even stop by for a cut? Not that it’s any of Lance’s business, of course, but he’s super nosy so he just might make it his business. Get him while he’s trimming the guy’s beard so he can’t run away, and then hit him with a nice petty, “Thanks for managing to squeeze me into your packed-ass schedule, dude. What’ve you been up to lately?”

And, hopefully, Lance will have a slew of clients waiting for him, showcasing just how in-demand he is as a barber, so Tony realizes that it’s a _privilege_ to get his shit not-fucked up by him. He’ll be trimming up the top while telling people, “thank you _so much_ for waiting man, I got you next,” and they’ll be like, “no, thank _you_ , Lance, for fixing my shit up because Supercuts doesn’t know what’s going on ever.”

He could get Raúl and Shawn in on the joke, because they’re loyal customers and also think Tony is a huge douche. They would talk Lance up into the clouds for the small price of a free shave, if it meant that Tony could get his head out of his protein shake-fueled ass—

“Quit making that face,” Luis tells him, looking slightly disgusted. “I can hear your neurons firing off some scheme. Whatever it is, don’t do it.”

“Stop. Don’t tread on my dreams.”

“I’m jaded, it’s my job.”

With a heavy roll of his eyes, Lance leans further back into his chair and even goes so far as to kick his feet up on the counter. His next appointment isn’t for another hour and a half, so he might as well make himself real comfortable. Thursday mornings tend to be slow, which he normally appreciates before the weekend rush. Today, however, he’s practically buzzing from his head to his toes. Nothing captures his attention for long enough. It’s starting to drive him crazy.

He huffs.

“Shut up.”

Lance pouts. “You.”

“I wasn’t talking. And don’t sit like that, _se ve mal_.”

Okay? Lance does _not_ care, when Luis looks worse practically laying down on the back counter, right in the view of the big window where anyone walking by can see him taking a mid-morning nap.

With a click of his tongue, Lance says, “Chill, dad,” because he knows the exact reaction he’s going to get.

Luis shoots up to glare. “What?”

_Hook._

“Oh, whoops. I meant _papá_ , my bad.” He presses his lips together to keep from laughing at the visible clench of his brother’s jaw.

_Line._

“Oh my god. I am not your father.”

It’s almost too easy. All that’s left, is to bring his brother’s advancing age and imminent mortality right up in front of his face.

“Ay, sorry. That was an accident, it’s just that you’re always acting just like Dad and I get confused sometimes.”

_Sinker._

It’s also completely worth it, to have dirty towels and empty spray bottles thrown at him while Luis calls him annoying, because there is nothing like the smell of riling your siblings up in the morning. Lately, it is especially refreshing.

As his oldest brother, Luis spent the better part of Lance’s memorable years out of the house, either in school or doing some new job in a new town trying to figure himself out. The visits were so few and far between for so long that he felt more like a stranger than his brother. Whenever Lance expressed his frustrations about Luis supposedly abandoning them, his mom would always tell him that Luis was a free spirit who would go where the wind took him and that, one day, the wind would bring him back home.

And of course, she was right, because three years ago Luis came back with his wife and kids in tow, with more stories than he could hold, and with the weight of homesickness finally gone from his shoulders.

Since then, it’s been a steady and easy reacquaintance, with Lance always doing his absolute best to fulfill the role of annoying baby brother.

“Just for that, go clean the toilet. I’ll give you a toothbrush.”

“Make sure it’s yours!”

Lance is shameless, so he sticks his tongue out as he says this, until the bell above the door rings. As soon as he realizes who it is, the tongue goes back in.

The sun is shining behind this unexpected walk-in, outlining a built body and glinting in silvery-white hair while failing to outshine the pearly smile that has forever blessed Lance’s stupid mortal existence.

“Shiro?” he asks, like an idiot, like he doesn’t know the name of an actual god on this earth.

“Hey, good morning,” Shiro says back. Thankfully, he’s not acknowledging Lance’s dumbness. “I don’t mean to drop in, but it’s kind of urgent.“

Luis is such a good brother because he covers after the beat of silence that follows Lance being completely unable to pull it together.

“Don’t worry about it man, we’re not busy.”

But even if they _were_ any semblance of “ _busy,”_ even if Shiro walked in at any time outside of his standing 11am appointment every other Friday, even if the guy he was working on wasn’t Tony’s whack ass, Lance would  _quit mid fade to attend him._

Shiro is, to put it simply, the sun and the moon and all the stars in the sky. You could not find a better guy anywhere else. Like, of the three PhDs Lance has heard of someone having, _two_ of them are Shiro’s, with the kind of qualifications you’d need to work at NASA. They’re… something with cosmology, and then atmospheric science. Don’t ask Lance why he remembers the exact fields, or else he’d have to tell you it’s because he is _so in love_ with Shiro that he had no other choice.

So there’s that, plus the fact that Shiro is tall and fit and super hot, just for fun. And—and! He’s also this… really, really nice guy. Lance doesn’t know a _whole lot_ of things, but he does know for sure that becoming a better person is one of the side effects of being around Shiro.

He’ll be the first to admit that maybe he takes a little longer than usual whenever Shiro comes in for a haircut, for two reasons. One, in order to prolong his exposure to such an angelic presence; and two, because it’s clear God took his time on Shiro, so he needs to pay his respects. Anything less than the most perfect rendition of a high and tight fade is just blasphemous. The slightest slip of his clippers and he’s likely to be struck down where he stands.

And honestly, with how nervous he gets around Shiro, it’s a miracle Lance hasn’t actually messed up his cut by now. Maybe it’s muscle memory, like the way he steps around the back of his chair to fasten the cape around Shiro’s neck and pumps the lever to lower him.

“You, uh, just wanna get cleaned up?”

Shiro nods. “You think you could give me a shave, too? I wanna look my best for tonight.”

For tonight… what could tonight be? Lance’s gut twists up a little at what tonight could be.

“No problem, man! So, what’s tonight?” He chances some eye contact through the mirror as he sprays water on the top of Shiro’s head, to see what kind of reaction he gets from asking.

Shiro looks away, kind of shy and very cute. “Date.”

Oof, that’s what he didn’t want to hear. Lance can’t help but have these illusions where one day he asks Shiro out and they go on the first of many wonderful dates that eventually lead to marriage and the happiest life anyone could ever imagine, but for now that’s all they are. Illusions.

Not like Shiro would say yes anyway, because that’s weird right? Dating your barber? Beyond that, dating your extremely average-looking barber when you look like freaking Adonis? But a guy can always dream. Whoever Shiro is taking out tonight is very lucky and Lance hopes they treat him right.

He sections off a chunk of hair and begins to pick away at it with shears. “Wow, you excited, big guy? Or just nervous?”

The red flush high on his cheekbones doesn’t tell him which it is. Still not looking at Lance, Shiro says, “A little bit of both. I’ve known him for a while.”

“Finally taking that next step, I like it!” Lance grins at Shiro, squeezes his shoulders of some tension.

“Yeah… something like that.”

It’s a pleasant hour they share, with Lance painstakingly perfecting every strand of amazing white hair on Shiro’s gorgeous head, and giving him the smoothest shave known to man. Babies wish their butts felt like Shiro’s cheeks after Lance was done with him. And, just because Lance is also a nice guy, he throws in a free eyebrow wax.

“Good luck tonight,” he calls as Shiro is walking out the door, which closes right as he says something back that sounds like _see you later._

Next-next Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

  
  
  


E-5, as unexpected, comes in later. Lance doesn’t remember the last time he saw him, but regardless he’s been looking forward to the next time since then.

Not that he would ever actually admit that out loud. E-5 isn’t one of those customers Lance readily declares his undying love for, like Shiro. Their relationship is a little more tumultuous, mostly because he keeps his hair long against the wishes of Lance and all his ancestors.

And here’s the thing: it’s not even that it looks bad, because it doesn’t—which is already unfair in itself since _no one_ should be able to pull off a mullet—it’s just that—

Lance is _real_ thirsty. He is absolutely positive that if he gave him a nice undercut and some texture on the top, E-5 (whose actual name is Keith, by the way) would go from vending machine snack to full course meal like _that._

Geez.

Maybe in a really weird and messed-up way, Lance is glad Keith never takes him up on his offer. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle another customer of Shiro-levels of hotness coming in every couple weeks. There wouldn’t be enough time in the whole world for him to recover in between. He had God-knows how long to recover for this time, but look at him. Still a total mess.

Lance attempts to pull out his best opening line.

“Why are _you_ here?” he says, which will never earn him any extra stars on Yelp.

Keith’s (big, very pretty) eyes go wide real quick and then narrow into a glare even quicker. It draws his brows downward, draws Lance’s attention to the curves of his nose and mouth. He keeps his eyes there, like a total creep, as they form words he doesn’t quite hear the first time.

“...Hello? Earth to Lance?”

“Yeah, I heard you! You want your head shaved, got it.” Lance waves his hand dismissively.

Keith crosses his arms. “That’s _not_ what I said.”

Yeah, Lance knows that much. Imagine? Keith could pull off a lot of things (preferably, his clothes—), but a bald head? Probably not. Although, Shiro on the other hand…

...Is not on the receiving end of a scathing dark-eyed look. The paint must be peeling off the walls. The itch at Lance’s nape must be Keith’s gaze burning through his skull, so he brings up a hand to rub at it while mustering his version of a sheepish grin.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t actually hear you. What can I do for you, my man?”

“Whatever you want,” Keith says, as he pulls out the hair tie keeping his ponytail in place. If Lance didn’t know any better, he’d say it was followed by a sparkling sound effect. “If you’re up for it.”

Okay, it’s happening. Alarms are going off somewhere, Lance thinks it’s inside his head, and his heart is beating too fast and his palms are very sweaty, there’s a spaghetti joke he could make right now but he really should not—he needs to calm down.

This is fine. He is up for it.

“Oh, definitely!” Lance says agreeably, not nervously.

He’s been up for it. He’s dreamed of this day, and he wishes that was a joke.

Keith offers Lance a little smile that lassoes him, with a cocky twinge that tightens the rope and reels him in even more than he already was. And what a stupid metaphor, especially since Lance is making himself the cow while Keith, of all people, in his cool leather jacket and tight black jeans, is the cowboy.

“Glad to hear that. I wasn’t sure if you would be,” Keith teases.

“Yeah, keep it up, and I might just turn into an angry bull,” is what Lance thinks, and didn’t mean to say out loud, but he did anyway, and now it’s weird.

“What?”

“N-nothing. Nevermind. Sit down, dude, and let me get to work.”

 _Work_ entails what Lance has been planning to do since the first time Keith stepped foot in his shop, clearly lost and unaware of the power of scissors, and _sheesh_ —it really is everything he has ever dreamed of. He can’t help but whistle as he takes off the cape with a flourish. He weaves his fingers through the top of Keith’s hair to tousle it artfully one last time and then immediately wishes he hadn’t.

It’s just… too powerful. What’s that Spy Kids quote again?

“The one about God staying in heaven because he’s scared of his creations, or whatever?” Keith is squinting at him through the mirror. “Please don’t ask why I remember that.”

Can Lance die? Can Luis just kill him once and for all? So he stops saying dumb shit out loud like this? He has to laugh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. But yeah, that one. Your hair looks frickin’ great, dude.”

“Yeah, it does,” Keith says, but he’s not even looking at his hair. He’s still looking at Lance.

Lance is almost too flustered to send Keith on his merry way, but he does so anyway, and will admit that Keith’s _see you soon_ as he’s leaving gives him butterflies.

He would love to see Keith soon, no question about it.

  
  


His day ends the same way it started—slow, quiet, getting canceled on. The perpetrator this time? His own brother.

Luis doesn’t wanna get wings with him all of a sudden, even if Thursday is _always_ wing night, but now he’s tired? When he has to hang out with Lance all of a sudden he’s tired? But when he’s hanging out with his wife and kids, he’s never tired? Okay.

“That’s because I _like_ Lisa, Lance. I don’t like you,” is his response to those claims. “I don’t know why you’re acting so dramatic about this, just go out with your friends.”

Lance would rather expire than admit that all of his friends—all two of them—are busy, so hanging out with his big brother really was his only plan tonight. Forgive him for being disappointed. He opens his mouth to say some other hurt-ass stuff when he’s cut off by the pleasant, yet out of place, tinkling of the bell. It’s past 8, so they’re closed.

“Hey.” Lance starts to turn towards the door. “We’re cl— _ose_ to being done for the night! But what can I do for you guys?”

 _You guys_ means Shiro _and_ Keith. Together. In Lance’s shop. At this hour. Together. Next to each other, holding hands, and holding flowers.

 _Date,_ Lance remembers Shiro saying earlier. As in, a date with Keith, because this is a small town and of course he would date someone supremely hot like Keith. Of course Keith would come in to finally do something about his wild mop of hair, because he was going out with Shiro and wouldn’t want to look anything less than his absolute best. Of course Lance would be the guy to get each of them ready for their special night, while simultaneously having nothing to do for himself. Of course of course of course.

Why are they even here then? To show off how disgustingly great they look together?

“Well, Lance, if you’re close to closing…” Shiro begins, letting go of Keith’s hand to fiddle with the petals of the bouquet, “That must mean you aren’t busy right about now?”

He doesn’t get the chance to so much as squeak, because Luis is already emphasizing just how un-busy Lance is right now, how free his calendar is, how big of a loser Lance, barber extraordinaire, actually is. In fact, he’s being kind of pushy about it, taking the broom Lance was cleaning with and giving him a shove forward.

And Lance? Has no clue what’s going on.  

“Did something happen? Did I mess up your hair? Your eyebrows?” he asks, getting increasingly worried about his lack of clarity in this situation. “I can fix whatever it is right now—”

“The only thing you need to fix,” Keith cuts in, “Is our lack of a third tonight. Do you mind joining us for dinner?”

He nudges Shiro, who perks up like someone who just remembered they have a job to do, which in this case must be to present Lance the bouquet, soft look and all.

Gardenias. Like… secret admirers. The brown paper crinkles as Lance takes them into his hands and rests them in the crook of his arm. Secret, indeed, because never in a million years did he see this coming—but it looks like he was the only one not in on it, judging by the self-satisfied smirk on Luis’s dumb face. He just wishes he’d worn something a little nicer than a white button-up and jeans _with holes_. Still, as casual as his outfit may be, it’s not enough at all to deter Lance from saying,

“Of course I don’t mind. I’d like nothing more.”

Shiro and Keith smile.

“We were hoping you’d say that.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you moth epi mai and traffy for making this zine happen!!! it was a lot of fun with you guys and you really did a service to the fandom by doing what everyone else was too weenie to do hehe 
> 
> thank you if you supported the zine with a purchase/like/rb and please support the other creators' pieces as well!!! also thank you for reading <3


End file.
